


Promises

by DemonRyu



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6974152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonRyu/pseuds/DemonRyu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from a quote: To love and win is the best thing. To love and lose, the next best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises

Funny that such an awkward start, would come to such a blissful end.  
  
For him at least.  
  
He couldn't quite ask Squall, as the brunette was still asleep. The moonlight bathed his hair, his skin, made him even more impossibly beautiful in Irvine's eyes.  
  
And the silver, it suited him. Suited the ways his moods would shift, just like the waxing and waning of the moon. And how, unless you knew where to look, you'd never notice.  
  
Squall's eyes.  
  
No one could describe them perfectly, how they could darken to a deepest blue or lighten to a slate color. Or silver, depending on just how annoyed he was. The way he'd tense up almost invisibly, the hand falling on a hip, head lolling, his hair becoming a veil. The way he'd hide himself and his feelings, except only he'd opened for him.  
  
And in that moment, Irvine knew that it didn't matter if they had a future or not, if the world ended the following morning or continued.  
  
He loved him. Loved. Told him, in words and gestures and with those eyes.  
  
And well aware he hadn't been the first. Knew that by the scar that marked Squall's face... knew from the scars that he couldn't see.  
  
But Irvine swore, swore against alabaster skin as his climax built, that he loved him.  
  
"Squall...I need to head to my room for a moment. But I'll be back, I promise."  
  
His lion wouldn't wake to find himself alone in the morning. With luck, he wouldn't awaken while he was gathering some things - but luck and Kinneas had few moments together involving Squall.  
  
  
This time, it was the fault of one ex-Knight. A temperamental blonde, who had been sitting in the shadows outside Squall's window.... And had witnessed the whole thing.  
  
Seifer leaned against the wall, eyes half-closed, sucking on the third cigarette thus far. He wasn't sure if he was feeling pain or disappointment, anger perhaps...  
  
With a scowl, he ground out the half-finished stick beneath his boot heel and eased forward, opening the windows. Squall still didn't lock them - but how many people honestly knew how to sneak over to them anyway?  
  
Before entering the room fully - however, Seifer’s still rival and former lover was already sitting up, face hidden in the shadows.  
  
"So. Did you enjoy the show?"  
  
The usual answer he was expecting wasn't forthcoming. Which surprised him, just a bit. A usual smirk and something along the lines of 'Not as hot as....' Not this. A usually smoldering green gaze, now banked. The inner fire that drove the blonde, was... gone.  
  
And that voice, though soft.. Hurt. Just that one simple question.  
  
"Why?"  
  
  
The slight caustic tone of his own questioning was his defense. He'd had a feeling Seifer was outside, but hadn't really believed it. Until he saw the telltale sign of a fire spell. Even now, he knew his habits.  
  
“Because.”  
  
And because nothing less then honesty ever counted with either of them.  
  
“I love him.”  
  
All color drained from the blonde's face and he seemed for a moment to be reaching out, as though to steady himself. But then, he tensed, his own mask falling into place easily.  
  
“I see.”  
  
And it was a frostiness Squall would have been proud of... Had he not been the reason for it happening. He sort of curled in upon himself, as though attempting to forget the image of what he’d just seen. The shock and the hurt and several other emotions, passing as quickly as Squall's own on the days he forgot to close himself off to everyone.  
  
“Don’t tell me you still cared for me, Seifer. Don’t you dare.”  
  
A low, pained hiss.  
  
Followed by a short, sharp bark of laughter.  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself, Leonhart.”  
  
They were lying and they knew it. But it was how it was.  
  
Still. They couldn’t part that way and as soon as the brunette moved again, mouth opening to speak; the blonde just seemed to pounce. He hauled Squall off the bed, leather grip painfully tight on his upper arms, mouth crushing his pale lips.  
  
While Irvine’s kisses had tasted of the cowboy and laughter and promises, this one tasted bitter.  
  
And when he let him go, let him fall, he whispered it. Whispered those words Squall had wanted for over five years to hear. The one’s Irvine had said easily but looked him right in eye when he said it.  
  
It was the end of a dream, really. In Seifer’s mind at least. He’d lost one, why should he have expected the other to be waiting. And as he turned, striding back to the window, the tears scalding his skin were ignored.  
  
  
When Irvine returned, Squall was standing by the window, sheet wrapped around his waist. His forehead was resting against the glass and everything about the scene just felt ... wrong to him.  
  
“...Squall?”  
  
Wordlessly, the other boy turned around, holding his arms open. A silent plea and Irvine answered, easily. He had no idea what happened, most likely wouldn’t ever want to know. But still, he held him, rocked him softly, murmuring as he stroked his hair. Assuring him everything would be all right. He promised. And he always kept his promises.  
  
Even, in this case. That what he held, though he said he loved him, wasn’t fully his and never would be.

 

**Author's Note:**

> When I originally wrote this, it was untitled. Not feeling the title I put here, but it'll do for now.


End file.
